Aftermath
by SweetSound
Summary: After Wonka's Oompah Loompahs piece Violet Beauregarde back together. She gains a temporary amnesia that Wonka and Charlie help her overcome. Based on the musical
1. Chapter 1

**AN: You have to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Musical to understand. I'm pretty sure you can still find it on youtube since someone posted a bunch of CATCF musical bootlegs.**

Aftermath

Ch.1: A girl named Violet B.

"Violet my dear girl," Mr. Wonka said, quietly. "finally back to join the rest of us in the land of the living?" he could see Violet's eyes flutter behind her eyelids. Quickly Wonka reacted to this calling her name urging her to speak.

Violet was filled with an unease when she realized Mr. Wonka was speaking quite literally when she called back the foggy distant memory of when she exploded inside of his inventing room.

"I guess so," Violet said, hesitantly.

She still felt tired from her ordeal.

Mr. Wonka tugged off his glove resting two fingers beneath Violet's wrist measuring her pulse for any irregularities. "You nearly worried Charlie," he mentioned. "he was asking about you only a few minutes ago." he sounded pleasant.

"Charlie?" Violet said, sluggishly opening her eyes.

When her eyes fully opened she realized she was sitting on a cold metal gurney.

"Yes, Charlie," Wonka repeated. "do you remember him?" he asked.

"I think I do," Violet said, half grumbling half coughing. She was doing her best to speak coherently and clear.

Wonka ready to receive any ailments Violet may have asked. "Violet I must know how do you feel?"

Violet mumbled under her breath.

Wonka rolled his eyes. "Miss. Beauregarde this isn't the time or place." he said through clenched teeth. "I'll ask you again how do you feel?" his tone of voice was uneasy and harsh. He licked his lips in anticipation and continued. "I thought I had enough trouble trying to understand Mike Teavee. I could never make out a word that boy was ever trying to say."

"Mike," Violet said, she gasped painfully.

"Are you just repeating words I say?" Wonka said, unsure what Violet meant when she repeated the former golden ticket winners names. "how about Veruca? What does that name mean to you? Do you remember Veruca?"

"Not-not-so sure," Violet stammered.

"Mike and Charlie," Wonka said again trying to jog her memory.

Violet's memory kept drawing blanks instead. "no," she whined. "nothing."

"But they must mean something if you keep repeating their names," Wonka harshly suggested.

"I just don't know, okay?" Violet said, raising her voice. "is that a crime or something? I don't know!"

"I suppose you must be suffering from a temporary amnesia," Wonka said, bitterly. "it will probably be a while before you remember them."

"Who?" Violet whispered in a quiet panic.

"You'll see," Wonka sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch.2: What's the damage

Charlie Bucket was the twerp's name she could tell he was Wonka's favorite since he wouldn't shut up about him. Violet suddenly realized she really wasn't that eager to meet Wonka's protege.

Charlie's name alone managed to rouse feelings of contempt.

He was the boy who won the fifth and last golden ticket and Wonka couldn't have been more happier for the kid.

Living in poverty.

His parents barely making ends-meet, they could barely afford to provide their son's most basic needs. His old home was drafty and let in the cold and he lived on watered down cabbage soup for supper. Wonka himself was surprised how Charlie managed to get through the coldest winter days without becoming dangerously ill from lack of proper nourishment.

Violet couldn't believe it but she sworn it sounded as though Wonka was worried about him.

He was actually emotional over Charlie's plight.

Wonka upset?

She may not remember much but he didn't look like the type to get worked up over someone's misfortune.

That much she did know.

* * *

"Oh, and by the way," Wonka said, absent minded.

Violet regretted moving so sharply.

Pain shot through her like a strong, electrical current. It was unfathomable. A cry echoed through the room and soon Wonka approached her. "I was going to tell you now isn't the time to go working yourself up," he advised. "you might pop the stitches."

Violet was clearly confused by how injured she'd actually been.

"What do you mean," she rasped.

It was with mild interest Wonka observed a terrified Violet trying to make sense of the wounds his chewing gum meal had inflicted long after her bubble burst. She discovered her arms were swathed with thick bandages and fingers were covered in band-aids. Surgical stitches sewn up her legs were reminiscent of a mad science experiment.

"Violet, please," Wonka begged. "you really must learn to listen."

It already was too late.

Violet was emotionally unprepared to cope with the trauma had let out a loud frightened sob.

Wonka couldn't speak over Violet's violent convulsive gasps.

"Violet," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Wonka could only wait until Violet's incessant crying subsided before he allowed himself to examine Violet's wounds for rupture.

"Oh, Violet,"


	3. Chapter 3

Ch.3: What's so good about it

"I warned you," Wonka said, in a threatening tone that made Violet tense. "you gone and excited yourself and here you managed to re-open a few sutures I was hoping remained closed." he scolded. "I don't mind repeating myself and I'd think you'd benefit by learning from repetition if it means you'd obey me for once. Ignoring me won't do you any good if you ever hope to leave my factory now."

Violet looked stunned, seemingly at a loss for words after Wonka made himself explicitly clear. He clicked his fingers, and five Oompa-Loompas appeared immediately by his side.

"Miss. Beauregarde tore her stitches open," he said to them. "her legs are in need of repairing."

Violet's throat clenched shut, her eyes watering, she could feel the dryness in her mouth, the soreness of her throat.

Wonka stared coldly at Violet. "I suggest you rest yourself in the meantime." he said, quite frankly. "I'd hate to know you succumbed to an infection." he gave a pleasant laugh.

"Mr. Wonka," Violet said, recovering her voice.

Wonka never bothered to answer, he turned on his heel leaving the Oompa-Loompas to tend to Violet's newly opened wounds.

He quietly shut the door behind himself standing in a lone stretch of hallway where Violet's father was waiting for him.

* * *

"Mr. Beauregarde," Wonka said, warily.

"Gimme a moment," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "can't you see I'm busy." he was too preoccupied making a negotiation on his cellphone to care about Violet's welfare.

"Mr. Beauregarde this is hardly the time," Wonka said, impatiently.

"Fine," Eugene said, gruffly.

A few minutes of conversing in hushed tones and comical hand gestures later. Eugene tilted his towards Wonka and whispered into his ear. "you got another stick of that chewing gum on hand?"

Wonka clutched his cane tightly between his gloved hands. "why do you plan on chewing it yourself?" the tone of his voice didn't sound angry or worrisome, but Eugene swore he heard a hint of amusement.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"It was only a question," Eugene said, bitterly.

"Just a question," Wonka said, staring at Mr. Beauregarde in his own disbelief.

"The deal fell through," Eugene mumbled, refusing to maintain eye contact with Wonka.

"Come again," Wonka asked, a gaze of suspicion was fixed upon him.

"If I can't produce the world's only human blueberry than the deal's off." Eugene said, glaring angrily at Mr. Wonka.

"You'd think it was a good thing Violet didn't remain a blueberry," Wonka said, as politely as he could manage. "it's not like she doesn't have other marketable talents you were better off exploiting."

Eugene opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of what to say. But then, he had a sudden thought than said quietly. "I guess you might be right, but still she cost me a multi-million dollar deal." he clenched his hands into tight fists.

An unsettled expression crossed Wonka's face. "I should hope you don't hold it against her," his eyes filled with anxious worry. "it's not her fault she couldn't hold her juice."

"But still," Eugene growled.

"There's just no pleasing some people," Wonka said beneath his breath.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch.4: Robert Salt's short lived return

"How is Veruca doing?" Charlie asked, Robert Salt.

"She's doing much better," Robert said, stepping into Wonka's office. "she's responding well to the treatment they're giving her. We're waiting for her fever to break right now."

His presence was unexpected since the day Robert and his daughter Veruca fallen down the nutcracker which depths led them to the sewage ponds below. It wasn't until the Salts had miraculously appeared in the headlines of the morning papers the day after the tour. Wonka failed to mention the chute that diverts to the incinerator every Tuesday.

They were very fortunate they decided to let it go out.

Charlie pulled out chair for Robert to sit upon.

Robert lowered his eyes to the ground. "Where is Mr. Wonka?" he sighed, he shakily collapsed into the chair Charlie offered him. "I'd like to talk to him." he sounded tired.

"He was speaking with Mr. Beauregarde not long ago," Charlie admitted.

Robert felt an icy dread pool inside his stomach, his mind flooded with panic.

"Mr. Salt are you okay?" Charlie said, he was clearly shaken, but relief suddenly washed over his expression.

The office door burst open.

"Mr. Salt delighted to see you again," Wonka said, walking briskly into the room.

"You couldn't have come at a better time," Charlie said, smiling at his mentor.

Wonka taken notice of Mr. Salt who was hyperventilating. (which was a worry)

"Charlie this is adult's business," Wonka exclaimed. "Whatever reasons Mr. Salt has I'd rather discuss them in private. I do know your father could use a helping hand in the inventing room," he sent Charlie away with the flick of his wrist. "run along I'll catch up with you later.

It wasn't long after Charlie left was Wonka eager to know why Mr. Salt had shown up unannounced.

Robert stared at him, eyes wide with fear and desperation watching Wonka who slowly approached him. "Can you hear me Mr. Salt?" Wonka said, quietly. "there's really nothing to be frightened of," he pointed out. "it's just an office, no tricks or surprises," he paused a moment than said. "so tell me what brought you back to my factory."

"Violet Beauregarde that girl that exploded in your inventing room," Robert wheezed. "and Augustus Gloop the boy who you made into fudge what about him?" he was struggling to breath. "what happened to those children?"

Wonka's jaw clenched tightly.

"I wouldn't worry so much about them," Wonka said, his voice quiet, serious. "I'd be more worried about your spontaneous panic attack," he suggested. "if I were you I'd start take many deep breathes."

With reluctance Robert begrudgingly followed Wonka's instruction drawing a few sharp deep breathes of his own.

As if he had little choice.

"Good, that's very good," Wonka said, with a pleased sigh. "as far as I'm concerned Mr. Salt there really is no reason for you to be worried." offering his consolation if it would ease his troubled mind. "Violet and Augustus are perfectly safe."

"But I saw them," Robert said, in a rushed breath.

"Breathe Mr. Salt," Wonka reminded him.

Robert breathed deep letting the air expand his aching lungs almost to their bursting point. Wonka produced his pocket watch from his waist coat to count the minutes before he convinced himself Mr. Salt might be suffering from the onset of a heart attack instead.

Better to be cautious than uncertain.

"Might I offer to call an ambulance," Wonka said, reaching for the black rotary dial phone that sat atop his desk. "will talk some other time." he picked up the handset and began dialing for EMS.

"Just tell me," Robert demanded, but his breathing was shallow and labored, and his words came out as a rasp.

"This is worth collapsing from cardiac arrest I suppose," Wonka answered, evasively.

Robert said nothing in return.

He couldn't, he was weak, afraid, and in pain, and it was all he could do to keep his composure.

"No objections?" Wonka growled in a tone so threatening Robert shuddered.

"None," Robert said, his voice as distant as his gaze.

His eyes broke from Wonka's casting them to the floor, sensing hostility Robert remained silent before Wonka resumed his conversation with the emergency dispatcher. When he was finished he hung up the phone than quickly flung open the office door.

Wonka warmly shook Robert's hand before sending him on his way. "I'm sorry about all this, I really am," he said, apologetically. "will meet again sometime after you've received proper medical attention and than will discuss the whereabouts of those children."

Wonka clicked his fingers three times and suddenly two Oompa-Loompas appeared immediately to stand beside him. "escort Mr. Salt to the entrance where the ambulance will be waiting for him," he said, Wonka glanced over at Robert who gave him a pained expression than back to the Oompa-Loompas. "and please hurry, goodbye, Mr. Salt and please do take care!"


	5. Chapter 5

Ch.5: No use sugar coating the facts

 _"Murderer," Mrs. Gloop yelled. "you monster you boiled my son into fudge!"_

 _"I assure you," Wonka said, giggling. "Augustus is no danger."  
_

 _"That's hard to believe," Mrs. Gloop said, angrily. "you think sending my son to your fudging pot is funny! Look at you you're laughing! You think my son's death is a colossal joke! How dare you! How dare you trivialize my son's death!"_

 _"Trust me," Wonka said, he snorted with laughter, having to hide it with a cough. "Augustus is unharmed and I'll prove it you Mrs. Gloop if you'd give me a moment."_

 _"Than where is he?" Mrs. Gloop screamed, looking hysterical. "where is my son! Show him to me!"_

 _"Augustus," Wonka said, grinning wickedly. "Augustus your mother's calling." he yelled. "come out Augustus we're waiting for you!"_

 _Augustus wrenched open the door stumbling inside Wonka's office where he was embraced by his mother the moment she laid her eyes upon him. Mrs. Gloop protectively wrapped her son in a massive bear hug shielding him from Mr. Wonka._

 _"Momma," Augustus cried._

 _"Mr. Wonka if this was your idea of a joke than this is a joke gone too far!" Mrs. Gloop said, her voice shaking with righteous anger. "when I thought my son was going to be made into fudge and you let it happen! You're a monster!"_

 _"I hardly believe I'm the one at fault," Wonka told her coldly. "you entered my factory of your own volition after being bonded by my contract which you signed," Mrs. Gloop said nothing. He continued to look into Mrs. Gloop's eyes making her feel small and nervous. "from the looks of it you should be the one owing me an apology for ignoring the warning I gave. Augustus nearly spoiled my chocolate and forced me to shut down productivity for the day. I'd say this this was a small price to pay for indulging that son of yours."_

 _Mrs. Gloop cut Mr. Wonka's argument short._

 _Augustus tried to speak up only for his overbearing mother to shush him._

 _"But momma," Augustus whispered, on the verge of tears._

 _"This is not the time Augustus," Mrs. Gloop said, giving her son a look of annoyance._

 _Augustus only wanted to try_ _to provide sound logic to the worsening situation only to be interrupted by his mother again. Mrs. Gloop who coddled and cuddled her son believed their was no fault in her baby boy and was determined to prove Mr. Wonka he was wrong._

 _"I'm sorry," Augustus screamed, inside his mind but couldn't bring himself to say the words._

 _He was sorry for everything._

 _"Augustus," Wonka said, his voice was filled with an emotion he couldn't disguise when he noticed the child doing his best to capture his attention. Was Augustus trying to convey his remorse?_

 _"Augustus," Wonka asked, ignoring Mrs. Gloop over her German profanities._

 _"Why are you crying?"_


	6. Chapter 6

Ch.6: Reaching out

If it wasn't for social media Charlie wouldn't have been able to have kept in touch with Augustus Gloop at all.

He was the only golden ticket winner whose mother forbade him to remain in contact with the other children after they flew back home to Germany. It wasn't until after the tour Augustus was diagnosed with pre-diabetes that he realized what a real danger his weight was to his health. (as if getting stuck inside Mr. Wonka's diversion pipe was bad enough)

His mother Mrs. Gloop wouldn't hear of it, she wasn't too eager to make the lifestyle changes that would help her son overcome his weight problem. Even though the Doctor said it was okay to take second and third helping he decided to make an effort to cut back. Only his mother would guilt him into eating more by fixing his favorite foods and tell him how much effort she put into making those dishes.

Which made it harder for him to resist even when he knew she was doing it on purpose. How could he possibly eat limited amounts of Schweinsbraten with bread roll Knödeln and cabbage salad, Leberknödelsuppe, or Magenbrot?

It was so tempting, so delicious.

He didn't want to offend his Mama, but he didn't want to contract full blown type two diabetes either if he didn't show some self-control.

The type of self-control he was sure Mr. Wonka was hoping he'd exhibit when he visited the chocolate room. He still felt bad about letting Mr. Wonka down when he drunk out of his chocolate river. Even when Augustus texted Charlie about how sorry he was for disobeying Wonka and he told him it was okay he knew he couldn't entirely believe Mr. Wonka forgiven him for what he done.

He imagined if he didn't make the right decision to be healthier for himself he'd become morbidly obese before his tenth birthday. Which was why he was so desperate to talk to Charlie for help and advice outside of his family. He needed the support of someone who believed he could make that change and help him become a better person Mr. Wonka knew he could become.

Charlie never made him feel bad, he was the type of friend Augustus could depend upon whenever his mother would insist he wasn't fat for a child his age. He weight was healthy for a growing boy, there was nothing wrong him.

Charlie was always encouraging him to do what Augustus knew was right to keep him motivated. He always knew what to say when he felt panicked when he passed down third and fourth helpings of his mother's cooking.

He was so helpful.

So insightful.

So compassionate about his plight.

Augustus couldn't thank him enough.


End file.
